


I am excessively diverted

by HisMomoness



Series: Blue Days [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, No animals were harmed in the making of this fic, Sokka is a pet sitter, T solely for language, Zuko has a cat, pretty sure this counts as slice of life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25946107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HisMomoness/pseuds/HisMomoness
Summary: There must be a cat lady with some serious dough living here.Sokka rides the elevator to the twelfth floor and fumbles with the key to get into apartment 1205. It’s a corner unit, and the view when Sokka walks in is breathtaking. The huge balcony and patio doors face the undeveloped green space heading out of the city, and there’s even a small pond in the middle distance.There’s something strange about a job where he’s trusted to be in people’s homes without them present. It’s oddly intimate, and Sokka tries to ignore his nosiness and get in and out as quickly as possible. But damn—this place is gorgeous, and Sokka’s so curious as to what kind of person has money like this and doesn’t put their pet up in one of those ridiculous, full service pet vacation places. The place is nearly empty though, and decorated with such minimal, neutral furniture that it looks like one of those staged photos in a magazine.Sokka doesn’t see a cat.
Relationships: Sokka & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Blue Days [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1883146
Comments: 24
Kudos: 216





	I am excessively diverted

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have an excuse for this, but it exists now, and there's plenty more where it came from. *throws text*

Sokka would say he is an animal person, if asked. 

In fact, he said exactly that during his interview with the pet sitting company Nomad’s No Stress Pet Care.

It’s not a total lie. Sure, he doesn’t own a pet, currently. But he likes them. He’d had a bird for a brief while a few years back, a nippy parakeet that he’d purchased on a whim during college. He’d been pretty tipsy, stumbling into a pet store near campus with some friends just before closing. The little blue bird had spoken to something in his booze-addled soul. 

The bird had flown away not two weeks later when Sokka had forgotten that his apartment window was open. He’d felt bad, but really, the whole thing was the fault of the pet store employee who sold him the thing when he was _clearly_ drunk off his tits. 

This is all to say that Sokka probably is not the best candidate to be taking care of other people’s pets while they’re not home, but he _is_ broke and in desperate need of employment. This job is flexible, overall pretty easy, and he has time and energy at the end of most days to pursue other things. Like a social life and hobbies. 

“Hey Aang, you done with my schedule this week?” Sokka asks as he walks into the small office one morning. His bald employer is bent over the cluttered desk.

“Yeah, just a second. There was a last minute addition. You’re good with cats, right?”

“Uh, yeah. I love cats.”

“Great. Then here,” Aang says, handing him a paper. “Take this for today, and I’ll email it to you as well. Make sure you text this guy, okay? He’s been a client for a while but can be really picky about his updates. The rest of your week is the usual, nobody you haven’t met yet.”

“Got it, thanks buddy.”

Sokka accepts the paper and scans it quickly. It’s the same clients he’s been dealing with for the past week since he was hired, mostly families away on vacation who need someone to come in to check on a kid’s hamster or lizard. A few are regular clients who take advantage of Aang’s dog walking services year round. Those are usually his favourite visits, because he gets a little fresh air and exercise and the dogs are pretty fun to hang out with. There’s something heartwarming about walking through the door and being met with someone who couldn’t be happier to see you. 

Sokka steps over Momo, the labradoodle sprawled on the floor of the messy office, and collects the necessary keys out of the locker.

He really wishes the air conditioner in his old Sunfire was working. It’s July, it’s hot, and he’s quickly melting into his seat as he drives across town. He breezes through his first few visits, a couple dogs and a snake. It was feeding day, which was gross—apparently this python is still growing, and Sokka is not interested in being around when it’s an adult.

It’s around midday when he pulls into the parking lot of a massive condo building, one of the new developments on the edge of town. Sokka has to wander through the lobby a bit before reaching the elevators, and he gapes at the fitness center and outdoor lounge that he passes. 

Must be a cat lady with some serious dough living here. 

Sokka rides the elevator to the twelfth floor and fumbles with the key to get into apartment 1205. It’s a corner unit, and the view when Sokka walks in is breathtaking. The huge balcony and patio doors face the undeveloped green space heading out of the city, and there’s even a small pond in the middle distance. 

There’s something strange about a job where he’s trusted to be in people’s homes without them present. It’s oddly intimate, and Sokka tries to ignore his nosiness and get in and out as quickly as possible. But damn—this place is gorgeous, and Sokka’s so curious as to what kind of person has money like this and doesn’t put their pet up in one of those ridiculous, full service pet vacation places. The place is nearly empty though, and decorated with such minimal, neutral furniture that it looks like one of those staged photos in a magazine.

Sokka doesn’t see a cat. 

“Here kitty,” he calls, slipping off his shoes to walk into the apartment. 

The apartment is open-concept, and the cat’s definitely not in the main area. Sokka pokes his head into the bathroom to find nothing, and there’s an office that’s also empty.

The only remaining room is the bedroom. The door is open a crack, so Sokka pushes through, stopping at the threshold. The room is occupied only by a bed and nightstand, and there’s an expanse of gleaming hardwood in front of him. He darts his eyes around, trying not to be invasive. His gaze lands on a white floof. 

“Oh shit,” he breathes. 

The cat is dead.

“Shit shit _shit_ ,” he says, running forward to the poor creature. It’s flat on its back, hind legs stretched out and front paws tucked onto its chest. Did it keel over from the heat? The AC is on in here, maybe it starved? Sokka drops hard to his knees beside it.

The cat lifts his head and chirps at him. 

Sokka clutches his chest. “Holy fuck, buddy,” he tells the cat. “You scared the shit out of me! What kind of cat sleeps like that?”

The cat rolls over languidly and stands, stretches, and rubs itself against Sokka’s hip. He gives it a tentative stroke along its back, and the cat promptly flops over again. 

“So this is like, your thing, huh? Cool,” he tells him. Sokka’s heart rate is slowly returning to normal. “Guess I should know your name, since we’re gonna be pals all week.” He pulls up his phone to double-check the details on this pet. 

_Name: Blue. Breed: Ragdoll. Sex: Male, neutered. Age: 2. Special Instructions: …_

The list of instructions is lengthy. Sokka only skims them. “Man, your owner is intense, Blue. You seem pretty chill, though.”

Blue gives a happy-sounding meow from his spot on the floor. He’s belly up again, big cerulean eyes looking at Sokka. 

This cat might just be looking into Sokka’s soul. 

“I’m gonna touch your belly,” he tells him. “I know that’s usually a trap, but I’m trusting you, so if you bite me, we won’t be friends anymore. ‘Kay?”

Blue, predictably, does not respond. Sokka curls his fingers into the long white fur on Blue’s belly and scritches gently. The cat closes his eyes, seemingly enjoying the attention. “You’re my new favourite cat now, buddy,” Sokka declares. He’s never had a favourite cat before, but Blue doesn’t need to know that. 

He keeps up the belly rubs for a few minutes before standing. The cat’s asleep again and he snaps a photo with his phone. It’s admittedly pretty cute, and the owner might like to see it. 

Sokka sometimes has to hunt around for poop bags and leashes and the like when he’s at a client’s place, but this owner has everything laid out. It’s actually pretty considerate, he thinks, and he’s done scooping the litter and topping off the kibble within a few minutes. Blue has some kind of fancy fountain instead of a standard water dish, so that’s one less thing for Sokka to clean. 

Blue has migrated out to the couch and Sokka flops down beside him to text an update to the owner. He checks the details Aang forwarded for “Zuko, Blue” and punches them into his contacts.

**Sokka:** Hi there, this is Sokka from the pet sitting service. Just letting you know that Blue’s doing well and he got his food. Everything’s good over here.

He attaches the cat pic and sends it. He gets a near instant reply.

**Zuko, Blue:** Did you brush him?

**Sokka:** No...was I supposed to?

**Zuko, Blue:** If you don’t, he’ll get mats. I left clear instructions on the counter. Please pay attention next time.

Sokka’s temper flares a little. He wants to take back the thought that this guy was considerate. Most people send a “ _great thanks :)_ ” in response to his updates. Really, if he’s keeping the pet alive, isn’t that the main thing?

**Sokka:** I’m still here. I’ll brush him now. Sorry about that.

**Zuko:** Will you be the regular sitter this week?

**Sokka:** Yes, I’ll be checking in every day.

**Zuko:** Don’t forget again. 

Sokka doesn’t respond. He lets out a huff as he stands and looks around for these supposed instructions. He finds them on the kitchen counter, an itemized, typed list of things to check for and do while he looks after Blue. 

Sokka would really rather not “score” the cat’s shit, whatever that means. He gets paid just enough to put it in a bag, not to _look_ at it. But there’s an actual, physical _log_ laid out next to the instructions, so Sokka copies whatever the last number was into today’s date. 

“Seriously, Blue. Your owner is kinda high maintenance. Do you care if I poke through your poop? No, of course you don’t.” 

Blue is asleep again, not caring about anything. 

Sokka sighs. He reads the rest of the list—it is _thorough_ —and leaves it on the counter as a reference for tomorrow. He grabs the brush from a basket on the counter and moves back to the couch.

Blue doesn’t even twitch as he rakes the brush around his body. “Coolest cat ever,” Sokka tells him with a final scratch behind an ear.

He texts that Blue has been brushed, sends another pic of him fluffed up on the couch, and heads to his next scheduled visit. Zuko doesn’t respond, which is just as well. Sokka would prefer to limit his interaction with assholes.

* * *

Sokka ends up actually looking forward to his visits with Blue. He scores the damn poop, and brushes him, and weighs out the stupid fancy kibble on a stupid fancy kitchen scale. This cat is beyond pampered, and like all cats, does not appreciate it in the least. But Sokka likes giving him belly rubs and talking to him. He feels like the cat really hears him, blue eyes on blue eyes as Sokka rambles about his day. They have a real connection, in Sokka’s opinion. 

He just grits his teeth every time he has to text Zuko. He always has several snarky-sounding questions, and makes Sokka feel like he’s being spoken down to. That’s not easy to do, over text, but Zuko manages just fine. 

Sokka likes Blue so much that by the fourth day he’s sitting on the couch with the cat in his lap and googling _Ragdoll cats_. 

“Oh, so you’re some fancy shmancy purebred, hey buddy?” he tells Blue. “Not surprising. I mean, look at where you live. I’m pretty sure you eat better than I do.”

He learns that the cats are known for being relaxed. Apparently that dead-fish position is a breed thing. 

He scrolls farther and his eyes nearly bulge from his head. “ _Four digits_ ?” he exclaims. “We’re talking literally _thousands_ of dollars for a cat?”

Blue purrs against his leg. “No wonder Zuko’s so uptight about you,” Sokka says. “You’re very expensive.”

Sokka will not be getting a Ragdoll. He considers a shelter cat. They need homes, right? They deserve love, too. All he wants is company. Since his roommate Haru got engaged and moved out last year, Sokka’s been pretty lonely at his place. And a cat is less likely to leave through the window—he hopes.

An alert pings on his phone that he’s due at his next house in fifteen minutes if he wants to stay on track today. He stands and stretches. "Catch you later, my feline friend. Don't work too hard."

* * *

Sokka is walking a massive Bernese Mountain Dog through a moderately sketchy part of the north end when his phone rings. He checks the caller ID and frowns. Clients never call him—text updates are the extent of his communication with them. He answers though, because he is a professional. 

“Hel—” 

“Did you check on Blue today?” The voice is hoarse, strained. 

Oh, shit. He’d forgotten to update Zuko before he left...and that was a few houses back. 

“Oh my god, I’m _so_ sorry. Yeah, I was there a couple hours ago. Everything’s fine.”

There’s a heavy, relieved sigh from the other end of the line. “Thank god. I was worried.”

“Man, I’m sorry, honestly. It just slipped my mind before I left and—”

“Is your job very difficult?”

“Uh, excuse me?”

Zuko repeats himself, like he’s speaking to a child—and not an intelligent one at that. “Is your job difficult? It must be, for you to forget the one thing that is required of you.”

The gall of this guy. Sokka’s done nothing but cater to his every ridiculous request all week, only to be berated for one forgotten text message?

“Look man, it was a _mistake_ . Shit happens, okay? Don’t tell me you’ve never screwed up. Also, aren’t cats supposed to be independent and stuff? Even if I’d forgotten to visit, he’d have been fine. And I _didn’t_ forget. So you can direct that attitude elsewhere, thanks.”

There’s a long enough pause that Sokka wonders if he’s been hung up on. Then Zuko says, “You're right. I apologize for snapping.”

Sokka’s surprised by the ready admission. “Oh, uh, it’s all good. No harm done.”

“Blue is...very important to me. I appreciate your effort in looking after him while I am away.”

“Sure, no problem, man. He’s a really cool cat. It’s been fun.”

“Right. Well, thank you again.”

“No worries. I promise I won’t forget to text tomorrow.”

“Have a good day, Sokka.”

Zuko ends the call. Sokka stares at his phone for a moment before sliding it into his pocket. He’d expected an elderly eccentric to be Blue’s owner, or maybe a middle-aged divorcee who’s had to transfer all their attention to their crazy frou-frou cat. 

But Zuko had sounded young. And...intriguing.

Sokka feels a tug on the leash and realizes that at some point during the conversation he’d stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. 

“Sorry, Harley.” The dog starts walking again, but not before sending Sokka a chocolate-eyed look of indignation. “Don’t judge me,” Sokka mutters. “You don’t even pick up your own crap.”


End file.
